


drabbles! uwu

by bee_loves_lou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_loves_lou/pseuds/bee_loves_lou
Summary: just drabbles. don't take this too seriously!! send suggestions over at @mia_myart on Instagram or @gayasinhappy on Tumblr (asks not messages, my pm's don't work)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson





	drabbles! uwu

His clothes are all ripped, expensive designer trousers with holes in one pocket and a plain t shirt that somehow costs more than a hundred dollars, all in the same pile he stumbld-steps out of.

Freezing cold water is hitting his already sensitive, not yet off all the shit he's on, body. The rush is definitely still there. Wide pupils and a smelly vodka breath. He loved it, loved escaping those terrible, godawful play pretend parties, where he had to nod politely to potential sponsors or important, in parentheses, people.  
Louis was always there. Always eyeing him from one corner or another. Watch out, he'd stare. Make sure you're fit. Nice. Flirty. He'd never let Harry party, never let him let loose. Only after on those nights, when they'd go home and Harry would slip out of the low-high heels, he'd be allowed to scream. Allowed to get absolutely shitfaced off the minibar selections. Get his hair pulled, his name spat. The lot. But not here, not at this party. 

He'd been out for what seemed like hours. It started with one shotof terrible lemon-flavoured vodka from the hotel mini bar, as tradition goes, about seventeen hours from the last "seen, 02:34" louis generously left him on. He downed two more shots, then slipped into something more fitting his luxurious self, grabbed a cab, as one does, and went off.  
He asked the driver to stop right there, in between a tattoo shop and a boring looking building, an ally leading into what he already knows will be a terrible, wonderful time. Getting out without paying, he got inside. One line before entering the door, two more off the belly of a fireman - no, not fireman, but a very good looking man in a teensy tiny costume. He downed a good couple of more shots before Louis called for the first time that night. "Where are you?"  
"Pfffft," Harry slurred, "No 'hello'? No 'how's it been waiting for me'?"  
Louis knew this was not a sober harry. Knew from the slur of his tongue, from the loud music in the background. "Come to the hotel. I'm waiting."  
Harry narrowed his eyes. No. He won't be controlled like that. This isn't the louis he loves. This louis wants what's best for Louis. Not best for Harry. Not even good for harry. "Fuck off." He slurred loudly over the crowd of noisy people. He didn't even hear the music anymore. Only Louis' harsh, cold breathing. He hated this, hated how he absolutely had to listen to every single sound that came out of his god damned phone. 

He approached the fake fireman, pushing someone else away and taking a sniff off him again. His narcissistic side is always amplified when he's high. And besides, he deserves this more than whoever else was there before. It took a few minutes before he realized Louis' been yelling at him for a while now, still on the phone, so he hung up, stuffing the phone down the front pocket. It ripped the bottom of the pocket slightly, but he didn't care. He's got the money to fix some flashy gucci pants. He's just missing the fucks to give.  
The one thing he forgot to mind was his physical self. It's as if he lost all of his autonomy, sitting cross legged in the middle of the dance floor, looking ahead but seeing nothing. Was it knowing, or not knowing, or not not knowing, which messed with him the most? Some part of him was hoping Louis was worried. Was pulling out hairs by now, but the only one losing here was Harry. 

He realized the headlines that'll be floating up soon. Pop Star Harry Styles Absolutely Smashed at Random Queer Hollywood Party. He stood up, bumping into some dude. Instead of apologizing, though, he dragged the dude along to the bathroom. The dude handed harry a flask, which he swung at gleefully. It was a few seconds later when he realized whatever was inside was stronger than he expected. Stronger than he wanted. He wasn't thinking, wasn't noticing when he took the heart shaped small pill, swallowed it without a gulp of water to impress Josh. Joe. Jack. Something along those lines? The man ran his fingers through Harry's hair, the way only Louis is allowed to do, and whispered something harry didn't quite catch.  
"'Scuse me?" Harry furrowed his brows at... Jo..ack? James?

"I asked if you want to suck me off." The man said loud enough for harry to hear over all the noise. His voice was scratchy. Almost as bad as one voice Harry's heard before. A voice he can't narrow down to one man. Maybe it's his boyfriend from high school, before all the bullshit started. Maybe it's Louis, he dreads, but then he realizes it's Zayn's, the oh so beautiful Zayn he misses, and he looks up at the man's face. It morphs into something that could look like Zayn's, but something's just so, so wrong. He hasn't seen that face in so long. Hasn't heard that voice. Hasn't touched him. Too much. Too long. For that exact reason he nodded obediently and went for a kiss on Zayn's, Jack... John's neck. James? He bit down instead. He didn't mean to, but he still got excited when Zayn told him he likes it like that. He never got a chance to try his way with Zayn. Always admired from afar but he knew Zayn wws straight. Fucking straights. He was so excited to have Zayn at his will. He wanted to say Louis is out of his head. Out of his conscious. But he wasn't - he was floating there, watching what's happening from above. Like he's encouraging Harry to work out of spite, and he does. Harry shoved his hand down Zayn's, oh, John's, Jack's pants to take another pill before kissing down underneath his shirt.  
"Hey, dude, are you sure you're- sure you're fine?"  
Harry stopped. Of course he's fine. He felt amazing. He was peaking. He could feel every pound of his heart, feel the hairs on his back of his neck, could see the world in contrasted colors and faded faces. When he looked in the mirror he could see layers of identity peeling off of him and leaving, but he wanted them to stay so bad. Wanted to be the boy he thought he was. But it's not the same now. He sits up. "I was." He felt like he wanted to throw up. "I need to leave."

This isn't Zayn. It might have been before but then it's all messed up. All angry. Harry hated it. He heard someone scream for his name and instantly knew who it was. How the fuck could Louis find him here? Before he could find his legs to turn around and leave Louis' already right there, in front of him, holding onto his shoulders and saying something. Harry doesn't know what. Louis grabs him by the hands and leaves. Louis leaves a couple hundred dollars in there, making sure quickly that the word won't get out. He gets into the cab and puts on Harry's buckle before fastening his own. "I'm not a fucking child." Harry slurrs, catching the cab driver's gaze. He knew he was about to make a scene and he loved it.


End file.
